


Center Of The Universe

by gothpandaotaku



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Angst with a Happy Ending, Bottom Sam, Bottom Sam Winchester, Endgame Dean Winchester/Sam Winchester, Jealous Dean, Jealous Dean Winchester, M/M, Pining, Possessive Dean, Possessive Dean Winchester, Top Dean, Top Dean Winchester, Top Dean Winchester/Bottom Sam Winchester
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-05
Updated: 2017-02-05
Packaged: 2018-09-22 02:09:30
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,508
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9577529
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/gothpandaotaku/pseuds/gothpandaotaku
Summary: Sam and Max are becoming good friends. Really good friends, perhaps more than friends. That should make Dean happy, right? That his little brother has someone else to annoy? So why does he want to punch Max's face ever time he sees him?





	

**Author's Note:**

  * For [WetSammyWinchester](https://archiveofourown.org/users/WetSammyWinchester/gifts).



> For my friend wetsammywinchester who won my holiday giveaway. I'M SO SORRY THIS IS SO LATE. PLEASE DON'T HATE ME DX I really, really hope you like this. You're awesome <3

_Is this more than you bargained for yet?_   
_Oh, don't mind me, I'm watching you two from the closet_   
_Wishing to be the friction in your jeans_   
_Isn’t it messed up how I’m just dying to be him?_   
_I’m just a notch in your bedpost_   
_But you're just a line in a song_   
_(A notch in your bedpost_   
_But you're just a line in a song)  
-"Sugar We're Going Down," -Fall Out Boy_

“So this guy—Sam, are you even listening to me?”

“Yeah yeah yeah, sorry. Some guy was drunk at the bar last night and you kung-fu-ed him or something. Go on.” Sam set his phone down on the table, looking sheepish.

“Who’s even been texting you all night? Is it a girl? Oh Sammy, you sly dog,” Dean grinned.

Sam rolled his eyes. “It’s Max. One of the twins we met at the funeral for Asa Fox.”

“Oh yeah, I remember him. They need help on a case?”

“Yeah, actually. They’re on a witch hunt but are having trouble finding the actual witch.”

“Should we give them a hand?”

Sam stared at Dean like he’d grown a second head. “You actually want to help them on a case? I thought you hated working with other hunters?”

Dean shrugged and shoved the last slice of pizza in his mouth. “Why not? Once in a while couldn’t hurt. Should be fun.”

* * *

 

See, Dean had this secret he’d been keeping, long as he could remember. Not even a secret, really, because that made it sound like some big deal. It wasn’t. It was just a _thing,_ a teeny, tiny, little thing. About Sam.

He loved Sam probably more than he should, that’s all.

Sure, he spent _a lot_ of time sneaking glances at Sam when he knew he wasn’t looking, and he had to constantly remind himself to stare at Sam’s eyes and not his _pink lips_ , and occasionally when he couldn’t sleep his feet had a mind of their own and he’d end up right outside of Sam’s room and since he was already there he might as well watch Sam sleep for a few minutes and make sure he was safe…

But it was fine.

It was fine.

Perfectly fine.

So Max’s overly enthusiastic greeting didn’t bother Dean _at all_.

“Sam! You’re here! Wow, feels like it’s been _forever_ ,” Max grinned hard enough to split his face in two as he pulled Sam into a tight hug. Dean scowled as Max’s hand drifted lower, dangerously close to Sam’s ass. Max didn’t even spare him a glance as he climbed out of the car and stood right in front of him.

“Hey Max, good to see you too,” Sam smiled and genuinely hugged Max back.

Alright, they’d hugged long enough. “So what’s this about a witch? Love me a good old-fashioned witch hunt,” Dean spoke up, lightly bumping into Sam.

Max’s smile tightened, letting the hug go. “Dean. Nice to see you too.”

Was it just Dean’s imagination, or was that sarcasm?

“My sister’s waiting inside.”

“Let’s go then,” Sam smiled, the bright afternoon sun catching the lighter caramel-colored pieces of his hair, giving him a halo-like effect. Dean’s breath caught in his throat. As they entered the diner, he noticed Max’s expression out of the corner of his eye.

It looked like Max was having trouble breathing too.

Dean’s stomach churned the entire meeting. Sam shot him a concerned puppy-eyed look when he passed on ordering any food, but Dean ignored him.

The case seemed pretty cut and dry; three hex bags found so far for three victims, all women, so it was obviously a witch. Only problem was, the witch had concealed herself so well that even with their advanced knowledge of spells and witchcraft, the twins couldn’t quite figure out _who_ she was.

“I think she may be using a sigil that protects her from tracking spells,” Max said, “Because every time we try a tracking or divining spell, it blows up in our faces.”

“Could be,” Sam nodded. He pulled a pen out of his pocket and grabbed the nearest napkin. “Have you ever seen this sigil?”

Max leaned across the table, even though Sam had pushed the napkin in his direction. Dean didn’t miss how Max’s fingers brushed Sam’s as he took the napkin. “Hmmm. It looks very similar to one I’ve used before, but a little more intricate. Are those extra markings what I think they are?”

“Yup! I think this sigil will help us work around whatever protection the witch has and locate her. And if this doesn’t work, I have some other things we could try…”

Sam sounded so excited, like some kind of overgrown kid in a candy store. A real, genuine smile graced his features as he and Max discussed the pros and cons of sigil after sigil, or whatever, Dean wasn’t following half of it.

“Looks like your brother and my brother are cut from the same cloth,” Alicia said from across the table.

“Huh? Uh yeah, a nerdy cloth,” Dean forced a smirk on his face.

She smiled. “If only I had a dollar every time he droned on and on about sigils and witchcraft and blah blah blah.”

“I would be a very rich man if I got paid every time I was forced to listen to one of Professor Sammy’s lectures.”

Dean watched as Sam’s eyes practically fucking sparkled, dimples on full display as he laughed at something assuredly stupid Max said.

* * *

 

Sam being the geekboy he is, the sigil worked and didn’t take long to locate one Martha Smith: witch. Since it was their hunt first, Dean couldn’t rightfully protest about Max and Alicia tagging along. The twins were supposed to perform a spell to incapacitate her while he and Sam acted as distractions.

Martha’s apartment appeared perfectly ordinary as Dean kicked down the door. Martha, kneeling at the altar in her living room, scowled and shouted something that sounded like absolute gibberish to Dean, but apparently Max could understand it.

“Duck!” Max shouted, hand on Sam’s shoulder to drive the point home.

A pillar of fucking _flame_ erupted above them. Dean could feel the heat on his back as he ducked just in time. Out of the corner of his eye he saw Max and Alicia begin drawing the sigil and chanting the incantation.

The flames died down but before he could so much as twitch a finger Dean found himself pinned to the wall by an invisible force.

“I’m going to roast all of you alive for daring to defy me,” Martha hissed.

“Sorry, but I’ve been told I don’t taste all that great. Like a whiskey-soaked cheeseburger.” Shit. Sam was in the same situation on the other side of the room.

Martha turned her attention to the twins. “You two have power. Why do you side with the hunters? What are you trying to do?” She raised her palm in their direction. Which, as Max and Alicia were directly in front of Sam, meant _Sam’s direction._

Max shouted something unintelligible and dove in front of Sam. Miraculously, Martha’s fire stopped inches from Max’s face.

Dean let out a sigh of relief as he was released from Martha’s power. The witch let out a shriek of rage, raising her palms again. In turn, Dean raised his gun to finish the job.

“Wait Dean, let Alicia finish the ritual first or else-”

_BAM._

Martha’s body dropped dead to the floor before suddenly glowing with a blinding light.

“Sam!” Max shouted, pulling Sam out of the way mere seconds prior to Martha exploding in a shower of flames.

“Thanks man,” Sam laughed as Max helped him to his feet. “Not exactly how I planned on going out, good thing you were there.”

“ _Anytime_ ,” Max grinned back. He winked. He fucking winked. Then he turned to Dean. “That’s why I told you to wait. Witches with that kind of fire power often booby trap their bodies in the event of their untimely death.”

Dean opened his mouth to retort but… Max was right. Sam could have _died_ because of him, and there wouldn’t have been anything he could do about it. No more second chances, no more re-dos, no more coming back from the dead again, according to Billie.

Alicia, Sam, and Max left the room but Dean stayed behind, trying to put himself back together again from the ice-cold grip of fear on his heart.

* * *

 

Ever since their first hunt together the twins hadn’t gone anywhere.  There was always another hunt, another bit of research they needed _Sam’s_ help with. It seemed like every time he turned around Sam was gone, leaving a note or a text, _out with Max_. Dean couldn’t remember the last time he and Sam had a real conversation.

Last night was the first Friday of the month, also known as Movie Night. It was Dean’s turn to pick, but he figured he’d be an Awesome Big Brother and let Sam pick this time. He got the DVD player ready, popped the popcorn, grabbed a six of beer… and Sam was putting on his boots, getting ready to leave. Again.

“Oh hey,” Sam spotted Dean behind him, finished lacing up his boot and stood. “‘Bout to go over some ancient Sumerian texts with Max. Probably won’t be back till morning.”

“But… it’s movie night,” Dean said dumbly.

“Is it? Totally slipped my mind.” Sam glanced at his watch. “Gotta go, how about a raincheck?” Sam patted Dean’s shoulder, placating, and left.

Maybe it was selfish and more than a little strange, but Dean was used to being in the center of Sam’s universe. Sure, he probably wasn’t dead center like the sun or anything; most likely off to the side somewhere. But at least he was there. At least he thought so, but lately he had his doubts.

Dean _used_ to be the center of Sam’s universe without a doubt, back when Sam was a tiny little thing dead set on marrying his big brother. Dean could barely leave Sam’s sight for five minutes without Sam crying. He used to be so shy, hiding behind Dean’s leg whenever they met someone new, or refusing to let go of Dean’s hand… batting his doe eyes as he made grabby hands at Dean, saying “Up, De! Up!”

Though, no matter what, even in the darkest of times, Sammy has _always_ been the center of his universe. From the moment Mom put a wiggling, crying baby Sammy in his arms for the first time, nothing else had mattered. He’d never forget how instantly Sammy had stopped crying and instead gazed at Dean in wonder.

Then his little brother grew up… and up… and was suddenly not so little anymore. Tall, and built, with firm muscles, but that stupid girly hair he insisted on keeping… fox-like eyes that even after all this time Dean couldn’t decide what color they were… those plush pink lips that looked so soft—

Dean shook his head. He took another swig from the bottle of whiskey in his hand. The booze was just messing with his head is all, making him think weird thoughts.

Sam strolled into the library, dressed in his nice jeans and least blood-stained jacket, smelling like a light and spicy cologne and _Sam_.

“It’s midnight. Where ya goin’, Sammy?” Dean asked, only slurring a little.

“Oh, uh, just, um, meeting up with Max.” Sam ran his hands through his hair nervously.

“ _Max Max Max_ ,” Dean mocked, bring the bottle to his lips and swallowing some more.

“Dean? Is everything alright?”

Dean snorted. “Everything’s just fucking peachy. Go hang out with your little _boyfriend._ ”

Sam opened his mouth like he wanted to say something, but then closed it like he thought better of it. “Whatever. I gotta go, we’ll talk later alright?”

And then Sam was gone and Dean was alone.

_Boyfriend._

Dean took a bigger gulp this time.

* * *

 

Stumbling with the amount of grocery bags on his arms, Dean threw the entrance to the Bunker open. “Hey Sa-“

“Wow, this place is really something,” came Max’s voice from the library.

“I know right? We’ve been living here for years and we still haven’t discovered everything this place has to offer.”

Great. Not only was Sam spending every waking moment with Max, now he was bringing him to the bunker too?

Dropping the bags, Dean stalked to the library. He wasn’t sure what he was going to do, but—something. Something needed to be said. He didn’t know what, but he’d figure it out.

Sam and Max sat at one of the tables, chairs pushed together as close possible, their heads nearly touching as they bent over a large tome. Max’s arm was wrapped around Sam’s shoulder possessively. Sam leaned into it as if it were one of the most comfortable places in the world. Sam murmured something low Dean couldn’t hear and Max laughed, kissing Sam’s cheek.

Had Sam ever been this comfortable with someone other than him?

Dean backed away silently and went to his room, locking the door. It was a good thing, wasn’t it? That Sam had friends, important people, other than him? Kid wasn’t antisocial like Dean. Someone who could keep up with his ramblings about whatever random dead language he was learning this week or documentaries he’d watched and made sure he ate because sometimes Sam forgot, someone who could keep Sam _safe_ , would be good for him.

So why did Dean feel like finding the biggest, baddest monster around and killing it?

* * *

 

“So, we really made a good team out there,” Max said, grinning widely. They were out grabbing dinner at a diner after another hunt, and Dean was _not_ in the mood for this. He was tired, sore, and pissed off that Max wasn’t the one covered in vamp juice.

“We sure did,” agreed Sam, poking at the lettuce left on his plate. It was a nervous he’d had since childhood and Dean never failed to pick up on it.

“We should hunt together more often. Monsters wouldn’t know what hit ‘em, right Sammy?”

The sound of Dean’s fists slamming onto the table seemingly made the entire restaurant jump in surprise. Dean didn’t pay the stares any attention as he growled low in this throat, “We’re leaving, _Sammy_.”

But Sam didn’t move, instead staring at Dean with wide, confused eyes. “Dean… I’m not leaving until you tell me what’s going on. What’s your problem?”

Ignoring the way it felt like he’d just been punched in the stomach, Dean shot out of his seat, nearly upending the table. “Fine. Hunt with them for all I care.”

* * *

 

“When are you leaving?” Dean asked quietly, watching Sam putter around his room from the doorway. He was used to this, he reminded himself. He could handle it. He _would_ handle it. For Sam’s sake. _As long as Sam’s happy._

Sam slammed the drawer he was digging through closed and whirled around to face his brother. “For the last time Dean, _what the fuck are you talking about?_ Leaving? Why the hell would I be leaving? We’re not even working on a case!”

“So you’re… _not_ hunting with Max and Alicia from now on?”

Sam recoiled from Dean’s words like he’d been slapped. “Why would you—god, it’s like you’re speaking another language. Wait, is this about what Max said? Because I said no. I mean, I like him, he’s a really good friend and maybe we can all hunt together occasionally, but it’s not like I could ever…”

“Ever what?”

“Leave you.”

“You should,” Dean whispered, soft and resigned as only a man before executioner could be. “You should know by now that I’m poison. You’d be better off with them.”

“Okay Dean, say I go skipping into the sunset with Max. What exactly do you expect to happen? I forget all about you, say “phew, dodged that bullet,” and live happily ever after? Is that what you want? Do you want me to leave?”

“No that’s not what I me-”

“Because that’s what it sounds like.”

“I don’t want you leave,” Dean shouted. “I don’t want you to be with Max either. That’s the last thing I want.”

“Why?” Sam demanded.

“Because you’re _mine_.”

Sam’s tongue darted across his pink lips—it was the last straw. Dean leaned in and kissed them.

Sam gasped softly, body tensing. Just as Dean started to pull away Sam nipped his lip and—oh _shit_ , Sammy could _kiss_.

“We should have done that a long time ago,” Dean breathed when they came up for air. “Agreed. And Dean? I’ve _always_ been yours.”

Dean’s heart pounded as he cupped Sam’s face, letting all the love and devotion shining in Sam’s eyes wash over him. It was just like every fantasy he’d had since he was a teenager, except a million times better, to be able to touch Sam like this.

Clothes fell to the floor haphazardly strewn across the bunker as they made their way to Dean’s room, kissing hard to make up for all the lost time. Dean felt a euphoria - a _high_ he never wanted to come down from - every time Sam touched him. By the time he threw Sam on the bed they were both down to their boxers and aching for more.

Somehow he managed to stop kissing Sam long enough to whisper in Sam’s ear, “What do you want me to do to you, little brother?”

Sam shivered beneath him. “I want you to fuck me into this memory foam mattress, _big brother_.”

Dean almost came from that alone.

With dark, hooded eyes, Sam slipped off his boxers and spread his legs wantonly, giving Dean the perfect view of his hole. As fast as his body could move, Dean eagerly dovein and swiped his tongue across the tight, dusty pink piece of heaven.

For the next several minutes the only noises in the room were moans as Dean dove his tongue in deeper and deeper. Sam writhed and moaned and _oh god_ if Sam was this sensitive when he was fucking him with just his tongue, how sensitive would he be when it was his dick?

“ _Dean, please please please_ ,” Sam begged, spreading his legs wider to take Dean’s tongue even deeper. Smirking, Dean added two fingers in addition to his tongue. Joke was on him though, because the moment he felt that tight, wet heat surrounding him, he had to grip the base of his dick to keep from coming.

Eating his little brother out while fucking him with his fingers was the closest Dean had come to a religious experience, and he’d happily spend the rest of his life doing nothing else, but his dick was _screaming_ at him to get inside Sam.

“Ready, Baby Boy?” Dean pulled out his fingers and replaced them with the head of his cock before Sam could throw him a bitch face.

“Been ready for this all my life, Dee,” Sam panted, looking up Dean with lust-blown eyes. The unwavering trust in them was so intense it actually made Dean nervous as he nudged his cock inside Sam.

“Hey. Look at me.”

Dean hadn’t realized he was shaking until Sam cupped his face and forced Dean to look him in the eyes. “This is all I’ve ever wanted, Dean. _You’re_ all I’ve ever wanted.” He placed Dean’s palm on his chest, directly over his racing heart.

_“Sammy.”_

He said it like a prayer.

They fit together like pieces of a puzzle. He entered Sam like it’s the easiest thing in the world, finding the perfect rhythm almost immediately. He rolled his hips up, Sam pushed down onto his cock. Sam wrapped his legs around Dean’s waist, taking him in deeper, working in perfect unison.

It wasn’t on any map but right there, in an underground bunker in the middle of Lebanon, Kansas, Dean found the center of the universe.

* * *

 

“Little brother’s a _screamer_ ,” Dean smirked, sated and relaxed.

“Shut up,” Sam mumbled, already half asleep lying on top of his brother. He nuzzled his face into the crook of Dean’s neck, practically purring as Dean stroked his hair.

Feather-light, Dean kissed the top of Sam’s head. _“Love you.”_

“Love you too,” Sam whispered back. Dean felt his face heat up, pulling Sam in even closer. Soon enough Sam’s breaths evened out into that of sleep. Just as Dean was about to drift off himself…

Sam’s phone buzzed with an incoming text message. Checking that Sam was still sleeping, Dean picked up the phone. He took one glance at the words _New Message From: Max_ and gritted his teeth. He headed for the bathroom, taking the phone with him, several more buzzes alerting him to more incoming messages.

“Hey Sam your phone fell in the toilet!”

* * *

 

_How did it go?_

_Did it go alright?_

_Sam._

_Sammy._

_Well, guessing that you having texted me back all night… I take it the plan worked._

_Have fun you two don’t do anything I wouldn’t do ;)_

 

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading y'all. Any feedback, comments are kudos are hugely appreciated and give me life. Follow me on tumblr, @gothpandawincest, for frequent fic updates <3


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